At Your Side
by wolvesjr34
Summary: Sequel to Catch 22, we join up with Jane and Maura approximately a year after their ordeal at the hands of Ryan. Things have changed, Jane is sergeant now and working too hard. How will she cope with the new detectives assigned to her squad and what's on the cards for Jane and Maura? Chuck a killer into the mix... I do not own R&I... just taking them for a spin.
1. Chapter 1

Snow crunched under foot for the newest Boston Homicide detective, Steve West, who tiredly approached his first crime scene several hours before the planned orientation at eight that morning. Being woken by dispatch at 4:40 in the morning and being told to head to an address in Back Bay was not the first day he had been anticipating. The street was lit by street lamps and the red and blue of police cruisers reflected off the white that blanketed the city. He paused outside the tape to take in the atmosphere of crime scene techs hustling inside out of the cold and several uniform officers keeping the few brave looky-loos at a distance.

Detective West shivered, feeling the chill to his bones. Adjusting his trench coat he approached the uniform manning the scene and spoke, "Detective Stephen West, Victor 853."

Officer Manning noted down his badge number and lifted the tape for the detective, "Rizzoli is waiting for you upstairs Detective, apartment 15."

Steve's eyes darted towards the officer's name plate and he nodded his gratitude before ducking under the tape. "Thank you Officer Manning."

The first thing that he noticed when he entered the apartment, besides the techs photographing the place, was that the victim appeared to be obsessed with World of Warcraft, which he himself only understood thanks to his kid brother. The open planned apartment was adorned with posters, statues of characters lined shelves and what looked like a replica sword hung above the flat screen television. He was absolutely certain his brother Mitch would be in heaven.

"Pretty cool huh?" Detective Frankie Rizzoli asked with a boyish grin, his hand reaching out to shake that of his new partners. "You must be Detective West?"

Steve took the hand offered and shook firmly, nodding his head at the question he responded, "Yeah, and you're Rizzoli?"

"One of them," Frankie said with a chuckle before turning in the direction of the bedroom, "Vic is through here, the medical examiner isn't here yet but it looks pretty clear cut at this stage."

The pair walked through to the room, careful not to disturb any evidence. Steve cast an eye around the room, the victim was laying on his bed, pistol just out of reach from his hand with a gunshot wound to the head. At first glance it looked like a suicide, but he had to wonder why a guy who was so clearly immersed in the world of a game would shoot himself.

Obsessive personality perhaps, but his first thought was to look into the guy's background more. "Looks like a suicide, but…" he did a full circle glance around the room, opposite the bed sat a computer desk with two towers and four monitors, plus associated peripheral mice and keyboards. The computers were on and the game was up, but his account had timed out. "It really doesn't make any sense."

Frankie nodded, pleased to see that the newest member to the team appeared to have a good eye. "Yeah, I have no doubt the ME will end up agreeing with you, because it doesn't make sense. We'll have the computers packed up so that our analyst Nina Holiday can have a look at them; see what she can glean from his online presence."

A yawn escaped Steve's lips and he rubbed the back of his neck, he was operating on four hours sleep and while he knew he had to get used to it, he had forgotten to get coffee in his rush to get to the scene. Subsequently his mood was plummeting quickly; glancing around before ducking his head out into the main area of the apartment he creased his brow. "Where the hell is the ME?"

Frankie glanced at his watch and scratched his head. He could easily call her and ask, but he didn't want to chance interrupting her and his sister in an intimate situation. He fought back a wry smile; he had never seen his sister as happy as she had been. Even if she had become an even bigger hard ass at work, it was worth it to see her happy outside of it. He stretched his neck out by craning his neck left and right. "She'll be here."

Right on cue Doctor Maura Isles strode into the apartment, kit bag in one hand and a coffee tray in the other. Despite the fact the weather dictated she dress warmly she still radiated wealth and quality via her leather jacket, which paired with designer jeans and leather boots that had a three inch heel. Her hazel-green eyes quickly searched the room until she located Frankie standing next to someone whom she assumed was the new detective. She smiled broadly, offering coffee to both men when she reached their position.

Frankie grabbed the coffee with his name on it and the spare, which didn't have Jane or Maura's name on it and handed it to his partner. Grinning widely he said, "Thanks Maura. This is Steve West, new detective."

Maura set her bag down and reached out to shake his hand, "Nice to meet you Detective. I didn't know how you took your coffee, so I just ordered a long black and brought along some creamer and sugar. I hope that is satisfactory?"

Steve, who hadn't said anything since she had walked in, picked his jaw up off the floor. He shook the hand offered and nodded sheepishly, "Yeah this will do thanks." He couldn't believe how incredible looking this woman was, besides her outfit and incredible smile, her eyes he had no doubt could see right through a person and her honey blonde locks framed her face beautifully. He cleared his throat when he received a nudge from Frankie, he was quite clearly staring. "And you are?"

"Forgive my manners. I'm Doctor Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts." She was oblivious to the fact he clearly found her attractive, instead turning to Frankie and asking, "Frankie could you hold these for me while I examine the body?"

Frankie nodded and took the tray from Maura and stepped aside from the door way so that she could enter and do her job. He nudged his new partner once again and whispered sternly, "Keep it in your pants." The last thing the newbie needed was to get on the wrong side of his sister by ogling Maura in her presence.

Steve raised an eyebrow in curiosity and whispered back, "She your girlfriend or something Rizzoli?" It was a fair question to ask he thought, considering the familiarity of their interactions and the whispered warning he had just received.

Frankie almost choked on his coffee at the question. He stared wide eyed at Steve and shook his head vigorously, "No! But trust me she's off limits, unless you really wanna piss of the Sarge."

He chuckled a little, suddenly wishing he had paid more attention when Lieutenant Cavanaugh was telling him about the squad, because for the life of him he couldn't remember who the sergeant was. Either way, lucky guy he figured. He smirked at Frankie before approaching the bed, standing just behind Maura and breathing in her floral scent surreptitiously. "Got anything for us yet, Doctor Isles?"

"Detective West," Frankie attempted to warn him to back up a little, but found himself waved off. He sighed with the realisation that his sister was going to loathe the new guy, whom he was saddled with and he would end up suffering for it. "Please give her some space." He'd be torn a new one if Jane showed up to find her girlfriend's personal space being invaded by the new detective. They both would.

Maura didn't feel overly comfortable having the new detective bearing down behind her, but she knew Jane wasn't far behind and if the new detective wanted an initiation by fire, then who was she to deny him? She shot Frankie a knowing look and shook her head almost imperceptibly, indicating he should just leave this to play out.

Without turning to look at Detective West she answered his question, "Liver temp indicates the victim has been deceased for approximately four to six hours. While the wound could be self inflicted, I won't be able to say anything for certain until I can perform a full autopsy. Although the fact this man is left handed and the weapon is on his right side does have me considering homicide as a possibility, as it is highly unlikely he would have used his non preferred hand to shoot himself."

Steve's eyes automatically searched out the victim's right wrist and not seeing a watch he wondered how the medical examiner had come to her conclusion. "I don't see a watch, what makes you think he's left handed?"

"The location of the mice on his computer table, detective. They are both to the left of their respective keyboards. A watch is no real tell either, detective. Not everyone wears their watch on their opposite hand. Also he has a calloused thumb on his left hand, which I deduce to be from his computer usage, the contact with the buttons on the side of the mice a probable cause." Maura responded professionally, she hated to guess, but as Jane would say it was an educated theory; a reasonable conclusion.

Frankie bit back a snigger at the frown that appeared on the new detective's face, but quickly turned to look into the next room when he heard the familiar clomping of his sister's boots. She was grumpy, he could tell from the grimace on her face, although she brightened a little when she saw him holding up coffee. "Coffee," he offered politely, his hand holding out the tray with the only beverage that could tame the beast a little.

"Thanks little brother," Jane said with a crooked grin, her long fingers curling happily around the warm cup, the heat seeping into her palms and soothing her scars. "What we got?" She asked quietly, her dark brown eyes instantly falling on the new guy standing incredibly too close to her girlfriend. Strike one. Two more and he was out as far as she was concerned, Cavanaugh had dumped this guy on her and she really would have preferred a different candidate.

Frankie followed his sister's eye line and sighed, "I did warn him," he whispered quietly before clearing his throat and speaking normally. "Twenty five year old, Larry Peterson. Gunshot wound to the head, weapon on the bed beside his body, possible suicide but Maura is leaning towards homicide, not that she will commit of course."

Jane chuckled thankful that some things would never change, but her mood quickly soured again when she noticed that the new guy still hadn't noticed her arrival and was pushing his luck. Her eyes locked on to those of her girlfriend's and she decided enough was enough. She cleared her throat loudly and walked into the vision field of the medical examiner and Detective West. "Possible homicide Maur?"

Maura looked up and smiled brilliantly at the newest arrival to the scene. She couldn't help but rake her eyes over the long lean body of her girlfriend, and while Jane was wearing her typical pant suit, it was one of the Armani ones she had talked the Italian into allowing her to purchase. It was a soft grey paired with a burgundy shirt, tailored perfectly and matched up with the cleanest pair of black boots the detective owned. Her usual wild mane was tied back in a high pony tail. "Yes Jane, but I'll know more once I've performed the autopsy."

Jane nodded and turned her eyes onto the new guy. "You must be Detective West," her voice dripped with ice, "Care to explain why you're invading the personal space of the medical examiner?" Her eyebrow quirked up in expectation.

Steve straightened to his full height, noticing the badge attached to her belt he recognised her as a detective. He just didn't pay much mind to female detectives; they were weak and needy in his eyes. He shifted his gaze to her face and while he could tell she was pissed off he wasn't one to back down. Ignoring her question he spoke a little condescendingly when he said, "Yeah I'm West and you are?"

Jane rolled her eyes, strike two. "I'm Detective Jane Rizzoli and this is _my_ crime scene."

Steve sniggered and walked around the bed, sizing up the taller woman in the room. She matched him in height, but his confidence was not going to be affected by that fact. "Well _Detective Rizzoli_ , I didn't pull my ass outta bed at 4:40am to work this scene, for you to come along and take it from me."

Frankie shook his head and stepped forward to intervene, but his sister threw a hand out across his chest and hissed, "Stay right there Frankie." The younger sibling shrugged and stepped back, sharing a sympathetic look with Maura, the pair of them knowing exactly what was coming.

"As for you," Jane said venom lacing her voice, "Get the hell outside now!"

"On whose authority?" Steve scoffed, despite knowing he shouldn't be picking a fight on the first day of his new role. He just couldn't help himself, there was something about this woman and the way she acted like she owned the place that irritated him.

Maura, sensing the impending explosion, tapped him on his shoulder and said, "I suggest you do what she says."

Frankie rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He told the techs to take five and nodded at the uniform on the front door to acknowledge him before shaking his head in frustration. He really wanted one of these new detectives to stick, but pissing the boss off on the first day seemed to be their talent.

He supposed he could have warned West that Jane was the sergeant, but then she'd have been pissed at him. If they couldn't respect her without knowing her rank, she didn't want them in the squad and he really couldn't blame her. Although he had to wonder how tired Cavanaugh and the top brass were getting with the turnover rate in homicide. Probably not as much as they would care if the closure rate had fallen under her leadership, but it hadn't, it had only increased. Jane had been on a crime solving tear, despite now occupying a role that was meant to mean more desk time and less field time. Seriously though, who could really tell Jane to do something she didn't want to do?

Frankie cringed when he heard his sister raise her voice and tear the rookie of homicide a new one. Well, now West knew who was boss, things might calm down a little. At least so the middle Rizzoli sibling hoped. He probably shouldn't have left Maura in the room with them, but then he figured if anyone could prevent Jane from pulling out her service revolver and shooting the fool it was her girlfriend. God what he wouldn't give for the old Janie back. Sure she was happier now when she wasn't working, but Christ, the woman was always working and she had no tolerance for incompetence or misogyny. Heck she had no patience for anything really.

The bedroom door flew open and Steve stormed out in a huff, shoulder bumping Frankie on the way through. "You could have warned me," he tossed back over his shoulder before high tailing it away from the scene.

Frankie sighed and turned to face his sister, "Did you fire him already?"

"No," Jane said firmly, "But he's on his last strike. Three strikes and you're out. He's already got two."

"Right, so back to work then?" There was no point questioning his sister because she was the boss after all.

"Yeah," Jane replied gruffly before turning back to face the body. "Get CSU back in here."

"You got it, Sarge." He wasn't allowed to call his sister by her first name at work anymore. He sighed and followed in Steve's footsteps to get the techs back to work.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

 **A/N: So, sequel to Catch 22... well it is set in that universe. Between my muse fickleness and my medication my motivation isn't as high as it used to be, so I might struggle sometimes with updates. So I won't be making any promises, but this is the most I have written in one day in months, so hopefully you will enjoy where I take this.**


	2. Chapter 2

A little after midday Maura made her way upstairs to update Jane on the Larry Peterson autopsy results. The doctor also had every intention of talking her girlfriend into a lunch break, as the new case had come quickly on the heels of the case the homicide team had wrapped up late the night before. She was concerned that Jane was working herself into the ground; furthermore she really wanted to spend some time alone with the fiery Italian. It felt like it had been too long.

When she entered the bullpen she found that Jane's desk was empty. She glanced around the room until she located Frankie standing by the murder board. She swallowed down her disappointment at Jane's absence and focused on the job at hand.

Maura approached the male Rizzoli with a smile, handing him the report on Peterson. "Hello Frankie. Here is the autopsy report for Mr Peterson. I can now confirm cause of death was the gunshot to the head, and as I hypothesised at the scene I can confirm the wound was not self inflicted. The gunshot residue on his hand was not consistent with having fired the weapon."

Frankie took the report and started flipping through it, nodding as he did so. "Thanks Maura. We've been working the case on the basis that this would be your ruling. Nina has found a solid lead that we're following up on."

His eyes narrowed when he looked up from the report to notice the distracted look on Maura's face as she scanned the bullpen a second time. He sighed and addressed her obvious concern, "She's in with Cavanaugh at the moment. I can tell her to contact you when she's done?"

The medical examiner offered a weak smile, hating that she was so blatantly obvious with her distraction. "I'm sorry Frankie. It's good that you have a solid lead to work on."

"Come on," Frankie said, directing her towards the break room. "Keep me company while I prepare some much needed coffee?"

Maura appreciated the obvious intent to obtain them some privacy so that they could speak more freely away from prying eyes and big ears. While many of the detectives in the squad were out, there were still a couple floating around. She most certainly did not want to bring her concerns up around any of Jane's subordinates. She followed him into the break room and sat down at the table while he followed through with his ruse to get them alone, and made himself some instant coffee that even the seemingly immune tastebuds of Jane Rizzoli would have found to be disgusting.

Mug of sludge in hand, Frankie sat down opposite the doctor and offered a hesitant smile. Something had to be done about his sister and the only person who had a chance in hell of getting through to her was Maura. "Detective West complained to Cavanaugh about Jane's attitude this morning. Pretty sure the lou is having nothing of it, but he had to drag Jane in there anyway. She needs to calm the hell down."

Maura couldn't help but to roll her eyes at the thought of Detective West. While she agreed with the observation that Jane did indeed need to calm down, she felt that Detective West more than deserved to be dressed down. "I most certainly hope that if anything, Cavanaugh warns Detective West about the importance of respecting his co-workers."

Frankie shrugged, "He probably will, but Janie is outta control Maura, surely you can see that?"

Maura frowned and shook her head slightly. "No, she's just stressed. She has a lot going on. Feels like she has to prove herself by working hard and keeping solve rates high. I do believe she does need to take a break and rejuvenate though. That should help re-centre her tolerance levels."

He laughed and asked playfully, "What tolerance?" He was rewarded with a small smile, which only served to sober him up. "She loves you Maura. She listens to you. Have a word with her yeah?"

She honestly didn't think her girlfriend listened to her as much as she used to, which wouldn't normally be a problem, after all the untameable quality of Jane Rizzoli was one of the many things that drew her to the woman, but now she was being asked to wield power she just didn't posses anymore. "I will have a word, but I cannot promise anything beyond that."

He grinned, satisfied with her answer. "Thanks," he took a sip of his coffee and spat it back into the mug, "Ugh that _is_ disgusting!"

"It's instant coffee from the break room. Did you honestly expect anything else?" Maura threw at him with a smirk, before rising to her feet. "Please tell Jane I was looking for her."

"I will," he said, standing to escort her to the elevators.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Jane used the message her brother passed along to escape the bullpen and head down to see Maura. She was tired and agitated and knew that she needed a few moments alone with the one person that could soothe the agitated beast she sometimes became. "You summoned me?" She questioned jokingly as she strode exaggeratedly into Maura's office.

Maura looked up from behind her desk, where she had been busy typing away at a report on another homicide. She quirked an eyebrow at the comical entrance that preceded the detective theatrically yawning before slumping down on the couch. "I didn't summon you, I simply asked Frankie to let you know that I had been looking for you."

Jane smirked, "Semantics."

Maura shook her head with a small chuckle and closed the laptop lid after saving the report. She moved out from behind the desk and sat down in a chair next to the couch. "I heard about Detective West's complaint. What did Cavanaugh have to say?"

The detective's look darkened at the thought of the new team member. "Cavanaugh reminded me of the importance of leading by example," she sighed tiredly before another more pleasant thought struck her. "West has to complete sensitivity training though."

"Perhaps in the mean time you will give the man a chance?" Maura asked hopefully.

"As if," Jane scoffed, "Have you seen the guy's teeth? They're like perfect… who the hell has perfect teeth anyway?"

A puzzled look crossed the doctor's face before she grinned and casually remarked, "Someone who doesn't consume high sugar breakfast cereals like you do?" She paused and tilted her head thoughtfully, "That said, considering that propensity of yours, your teeth are in very good condition."

"Maura," Jane whined, "Really not the point."

"You're the one that brought up the topic of his teeth, I naturally…"

Jane shook her head and reached out to rest her hand on Maura's wrist, instantly quieting her. "I was just doing that childish thing I do where I point out something completely irrelevant to the reason I dislike the man."

"Oh," she said, "I know."

"Then why the…"

"Because your reason for instantly disliking Detective West is questionable." Maura interrupted with a knowing look. Sure she understood that Jane recognised her discomfort at the scene, and Detective West had indeed behaved like a jackass, but Jane was not immune to committing her own acts of jackassery and should look to lead by example.

Jane threw her hands up in the air and threw herself back in frustration. Her eyes shifted from some point behind Maura until they made contact with curious hazel-green. She gritted her teeth and ground out, "He was all over you Maura, and you were clearly uncomfortable and that was not and will never be, okay with me!"

"I agree, Jane; but don't you think that he will have learned his lesson? You were itching for a confrontation and he gave you one. Perhaps it is time to do as Cavanaugh suggested and lead by example?"

"Oh come on Maura," Jane said, feeling incensed by Maura's take on the situation. "West is an asshole." She saw the reprimanding look her girlfriend gave her for her choice in language but remained unapologetic. "I give it one day tops and he'll be down here putting the moves on you."

"I highly doubt that to be the case Jane and even if he does, you know I am more than capable of handling an unwanted advance." She responded calmly.

"You mean like you did this morning? You just let him stand right behind you. God any closer and he would have been in your lap!" Jane didn't mean to sound spiteful, but her patience had worn thin and her lack of sleep had caught up with her.

"Go home Jane." Maura said coolly, "You need some sleep. Perhaps then you will think more carefully before you speak." She stood from the chair she was sitting in and returned to her desk, picking up a file to read as a visual cue to Jane that she was done with this conversation. It would only escalate if she did not take the adult road. There was no arguing with a tired, grumpy and jealous Jane Rizzoli.

Jane brought her hands to her face; her fingertips came together at the bridge of her nose while her thumbs rested under her chin. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, counting backwards from ten in an attempt to calm the anger she felt dancing under her eyelids. Maura was right; she didn't deserve to cop the brunt of the detective's bad mood. "You're right, I'm sorry." Her words were muffled by her hands, which still maintained a barrier around her mouth and nose.

"Excuse me?" Maura asked, pretty sure she had heard an apology, but not sure enough given the distortion.

Jane dropped her hands and rose from the couch. "I said, you're right and I am sorry. You've done nothing to cop my crap. I'm a jerk."

The genuine contriteness emanating from the detective prompted Maura to put the file down and reach out to grab hold of Jane by the hand and pull her into an embrace. Her face buried against an olive toned clavicle she said, "Yes you are, but you're _my_ jerk."

Jane wrapped one arm protectively around her girlfriend's waist and brought the other up to the back of her head, fingers tangling with golden blonde hair. She pressed a soft kiss against Maura's hair, thankful that the shorter woman had forgiven her so easily. There was an incredible sense of peace that flooded her body when she held Maura, and this time was no different. A warm smile plastered itself on her face and whether she wanted it to or not, it would stay for the rest of the day. That was the affect her girlfriend had on her.

They remained in the embrace for a good thirty seconds before Jane pulled back a little, ensuring they made eye contact. "I love you."

Maura smiled warmly, "I love you too Jane."

It was a moment where both women felt the strength of their connection; a moment that was rudely interrupted by Jane's phone vibrating in her pocket. With an exasperated sigh, the moment well and truly broken, the detective yanked the phone from her pocket and barked down the line, "Rizzoli.

Maura watched as Jane listened to what was being said, curious as to what was causing the incredulous look that appeared on her girlfriend's face. When the call ended she asked, "Update on the case?"

"Yeah," Jane said, putting her phone back in her pocket. She really couldn't believe what she had been told, it certainly meant she had a new murder to add to her list of murders committed for incredibly ridiculous reasons. "So it seems Nina found a program on Peterson's computer that basically ran in the background, recoding everything that happened n screen."

"Okay, and?"

"It appears somebody accessed one of Larry's game accounts. Apparently he was like hooked on some game and had lots of maxed out characters, whatever the hell that means, and lots and lots of gold. It was all transferred out to another account, which Nina is getting a warrant for the company to provide subscriber details. Or something, I dunno Maur…. This is just the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Some MMORPG in game currency can be big business. Despite it often being against game maker policy and often illegal, people farm currencies just to sell them for real money. Unfortunately this does lead to a lot of account thefts."

Jane's eyes narrowed in suspicion before widening in surprise. Of course Maura knew about this subject too. She finally settled on a mix between confusion and irritation. "I have no idea about half of what you just said, but someone graduated from thieving to killing, all for some stupid game. People are stupid Maura."

Maura suppressed a smile; she would have to indoctrinate Jane into the ways of World of Warcraft one day. She suspected if the detective actually tried, she might find a certain level of relaxation from the many things a person could do in a role playing game. "In any case, once Blizzard receives the warrant, you should be closer to solving this case."

"Who? What?" Jane creased her brow in further confusion, despite having heard the name of the game design company from Nina mere moments before. She just didn't have it in her to care beyond what she needed to know. She knew it was being sorted out, that's all she cared about.

Maura laughed, "The game designers for the game that Mr Peterson was obsessed with, based upon the items in his apartment."

Jane nodded, "Oh right. Wait was the awesome looking sword from the game?"

Maura tilted her head in thought, bringing back the memory of the replica sword that hung over the television in the living room of the victim's apartment. "Mm yes, Frostmourne… that could well be a twenty thousand dollar sword, Jane."

Her jaw dropped, "Why the hell would someone spend that much on a replica sword from a video game? Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know. I'm going to head back upstairs and hope to God that Frankie doesn't turn into an excitable puppy over this business."

Maura stepped forward into Jane's personal space and leaned forward on her toes to plant a soft kiss on her lips. "Alright, but please don't forget to eat something."

She waved her hand over her head as she turned and headed out of the office. "I'll grab something from the café on the way up. I'll try and be home early tonight."

"I hope so," Maura whispered to herself once Jane had walked out of sight, because as much as she had enjoyed most of their time together in the office, it had been a mere moment. She craved more, she needed to feel Jane wrapped around her as she drifted to sleep, which she hadn't felt in a few nights because of the previous case. She was saddened by the lengths people would go to for some in game currency, but she was grateful this case looked like wrapping up quickly. There was hope that she might actually see Jane before falling asleep and that thought provided Maura with comfort for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

 **A/N: Soooo I might just be missing my WoW account a little right now (bright side is I have time to write). Not that I have an obsession with it, I just enjoy it... but hey, I can live vicariously through Maura and the victim on this one heh heh.**

Thank you for reading and reviewing. The reviews really help spur me on by motivating me to keep writing for you all, so thanks again.


	3. Chapter 3

Jessie Sinclair presented as a tall, gangly redhead with freckles and inquisitive green eyes. In his late twenties and still living with his mother; he was in the middle of a raid when Frankie and his partner Detective West appeared behind him. He argued loudly when advised that they needed to ask him a few questions. He had whined that he was performing a vital role and couldn't just leave his guild in the lurch but they were having none of that.

Subsequently Jessie found himself sitting in one of the interview rooms of BPD Headquarters by himself waiting for the return of the detectives that had fouled up his evening plans. His palms were sweaty and his nerves were on high alert, he wasn't exactly sure what was going on but he had a bad feeling it had something to do with all the gold he woke up to having received in game.

"What's this about?" He asked nervously when Frankie and Steve entered the room, sitting down opposite him.

"We were hoping you could tell us, Jessie." Frankie decided to open the interview with a little kindness in his tone. He wanted to feel out the suspect, hope the kid would open up and just tell the truth. Of course that rarely happened, but there was always a first time.

Jessie's eyes skirted from the laid back open expression on Frankie's face to the scowl on Steve's as he rifled through the folder in front of him. He gulped down nervously and focused his attention on the friendlier alternative. "Look if it's about that gold I woke up to, I already reported that to Blizz. I'm not stupid, gold like that doesn't just fall in your lap."

"Gold stealing is a big business, Jessie." Detective West offered conversationally, although his eyes continued to glower suspiciously. "You telling me all that gold just mysteriously showed up this morning?"

To any outsider, the conversation might sound a little ridiculous, but Detective West, thanks to his brother's obsession with the game, knew all too much about one of the biggest games in the world. He shifted forward and shot a challenging look at the suspect, "Well?"

"Yeah man," Jessie said, "Like I said I reported it to Blizz."

While Frankie found the items in the victim's home fascinating and the sword very cool, he was actually pretty clueless about the game itself and cast an inquisitive eyebrow quirk at his partner for elaboration on the term Jessie had mentioned twice now.

Noticing Frankie's confusion, West clarified. "Blizzard the company responsible for creating and managing the game." He returned his focus to Jessie, "I'm gonna follow up on that. Where were you last night between eleven pm and one am?"

Jessie visibly relaxed, feeling like he finally had a question he could answer. "That's easy. I was running HFC Mythic with my guild. I'm one of the tanks, so they don't really do it without me ya know?"

On the other side of the glass, in the observation room, Jane's brow furrowed and she quickly pulled out her phone and texted Maura.

 _What the hell is HFC Mythic and what's a tank?_

 _HFC is a common abbreviation for Hellfire Citadel, and Mythic is the highest difficulty for that content. In World of Warcraft terms, a tank is a character role geared towards maintaining threat to protect the damage dealers and healers._

Jane stared at the text for a good five minutes before giving up on understanding half of what had been explained to her in plain English. Besides, she could tell already that the young man wasn't the guilty party, which was frustrating because it meant no early night and that she knew would only serve to disappoint Maura. She knew she could leave this in the hands of Frankie and Detective West, especially since he actually seemed to know what Jessie was talking about, but it just wasn't her way of doing things.

Also, she still didn't like West one little bit. Quite frankly she'd be happy if he screwed up again so she could kick him to the curb. He never should have invaded Maura's personal space the way he did, never mind his misogynistic attitude. Yup, she hated Detective West.

As soon as she remembered that, her attention disappeared completely from the potential of disappointing her girlfriend and back on to the interview happening behind the glass. As she watched on she felt her anger grow.

Jessie was visibly shaking a little at the news a fellow gamer had been murdered. "I had no problem with that guy, his guild was geared towards PVP content and we do the PVE content. He was one of the top PVP players though, so you might want to look into the arena rankings, pretty sure he was top player on our server."

Steve scribbled a few notes down and leaned back in his chair, his face softening. He was of the opinion that Jessie was telling the truth, granted it opened up the pool of suspects, but there had to be a reason Jessie was the one sent the gold. "You got beef with anyone?"

"Nah, we just go about our business. This is all pretty messed up though."

"Someone went to a lot of effort to make us think this was your doing Jessie, surely there's someone out there you've pissed off? Maybe in trade chat?"

Frankie's eyes simply bounced from person to person as the interview went on, he was so far out of his depth it was ridiculous. He was considering how fortunate it was though, that West had come onboard right when a little of his expertise was beneficial. He spared a moment to glance knowingly at the glass, where he knew his sister would be watching. He hoped she was softening up a little towards his new partner, given the assistance he was being.

Jessie laughed, "Man trade is full of trolls; I don't waste my time with that."

A moment later the door to the interview room opened and Jane stormed in. Her eyes narrowed she pointed her finger at Jessie and growled, "This ain't no laughing matter kid. A man is dead and you're who they want us to think did it. So take this seriously!"

Frankie jumped out of his seat before his partner could and pushed his sister back out the door, closing it behind them. He rounded on her then and growled, "What the hell was that Janie?"

"What have I told you about calling me that at work, Frankie?" She sneered.

The younger sibling shook his head and scoffed, "I dunno what the hell has gotten into you lately, but you're a real pain in the ass to work with. You can't just storm into my interview room and yell at suspects."

"Well maybe if you and Detective Dick took the damn situation a little more seriously I wouldn't have to." Jane huffed indignantly all too aware that she had lost her cool.

Frankie just shook his head again and pulled his phone from its holder on his belt. He ignored the dirty look being tossed his way. "Yeah, hey Maura it's Frankie. Jane needs a damn intervention, can you please come and take her home." He turned away from his sister when she attempted to yank the phone from his hands and continued, "She's outta control, stormed in on my interview. Yeah, please. Thanks Maura."

Hands on hips, Jane let out an exasperated sigh. The rage she felt was border line out of control, but rather than make a bigger scene she just shook her head and muttered, "I can't believe you tattled."

Frankie shook his head for what felt to him like the umpteenth time that day and turned his back on his sister, returning to the interview room with an apologetic smile for his partner. He was going to suffer for what he just did, he had no doubt, but enough was enough. Jane had become insufferable.

* * *

"I can't believe he did that." Jane groused irritably as she paced back and forth in front of Maura's desk. "I can't believe he called you to come and _handle_ me."

Maura sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes at the scene before her. She couldn't blame Frankie at all, given what he had explained about how Jane had interrupted the interview and exploded on the suspect. "Well you did behave unprofessionally, Jane."

"For Pete's sake Maura, the kid was laughing about this whole thing. A man is dead over a freakin video game and he was laughing!" Jane's frustration only continued to grow.

Her rage from when she and Frankie had their confrontation had evaporated, only because Maura had indeed come to _handle_ her, but it was beginning to build again. Lately she hadn't had great control of her emotions, which only added to her frustration. She had recognised the trend and while she couldn't rein control over it she had ensured that she didn't take it out on Maura too much, by spending as much time at work as possible. She knew it wasn't healthy, but she would figure it out eventually.

Her girlfriend's pacing was beginning to drive Maura around the bend, so she stood from her seat and walked around the front of her desk and put a calming hand on the Italian's forearm. "Jane," she said soothingly, "Sit down and just take a moment to calm yourself."

Jane ceased pacing and sucked in a couple of deep breaths before looking at the imploring features of the medical examiner. With great reluctance she did as asked, slumping down onto the couch. "Fine, I'm calm now, see?" The sarcasm was ripe in her voice.

Maura could see how frayed around the edges Jane was and it concerned her. The detective had been working too hard, but now she was worried there was something deeper going on. She sat down next to her girlfriend and placed her hand on Jane's erratically bouncing knee. "What's going on? You haven't been yourself lately and I'm not the only one who has noticed."

"Nothin's goin' on. We've just been hammered with murders to solve and I'm not gettin' enough sleep. You know that."

Maura frowned, absolutely certain that while there was some truth to the statement, it was not the root cause. They had experienced similar upturns in murders in the past causing them to operate on little sleep, and while grouchy Jane was a given at those times, this Jane was beyond that. "Then use your new position to delegate love, I don't like what this is doing to you."

"Really Maura? You want me to give that jackass West more responsibility?"

"I was thinking your brother, Jane. Although I do find it interesting that you assumed I meant Detective West." Maura gently rubbed her hand along Jane's thigh as the bouncing ceased. "I know you two got off on the wrong foot and I am partly to blame, I did allow him to invade my personal space. I shouldn't have done that, but Jane you have to get over it. Give West a chance to prove his worth. All this anger is bad for you."

"Can you go five minutes without telling me what's bad for me?" Jane snapped irritably before jumping off the couch and storming out of the room. She just wasn't in the mood to be comforted, or lectured, or anything that Maura had to offer in that moment. She just needed to get out of her head for a while.

In the past Maura would have chased after the detective, but she suspected that there was nothing she could do but worry about the raven haired woman. She had to figure out what was happening for both their sakes. She pulled out her phone and texted Frankie a warning that Jane had left her office, potentially on the warpath.

There was nothing else to do but to go back to work while trying to push the feeling of disappointment and concern to the back of her brain. The one thing she was sure of was that a promising evening together wouldn't happen. Not now. Not with the case still open and Jane's temper being so raw.

Maura sighed heavily and flicked through her calendar, which prompted the realisation that they really had been busy this month. She hadn't made it out to the Landsdowne Senior Centre in six weeks. Determined to make the best of a poor situation she cleared her schedule and gathered her personal belongings. She was off to visit a friend.

* * *

 **A/N: I know it's short, and a long time coming, and really just a filler chapter to progress things along a bit, but it's something right? My muse has been afk while I have been absorbed back into the world of warcraft... my bad. I have every intention of finishing all my unfinished stories, but the muse is being fickle and I cannot promise any quick updates. I hope you enjoy.**


	4. Chapter 4

The Landsdowne Senior Centre was a modest, but highly functional care facility surrounded by pristine grounds, with tall trees and gorgeous gardens. Located 40 minutes out of Boston in the town of Framingham it was close enough to Boston for relatives and friends to visit, while affording a certain level of privacy for the residents.

Tall Bur Oak's were changing colour with the cooler weather, leaves littered the grounds to create a yellowish brown contrast to the green lawn. The early snow that had affected Boston hadn't been nearly as prominent in Framingham, with the lightest sprinkling having melted, adding a damp glisten to the fallen leaves.

A gentle breeze flittered in and out of the gardens, lifting leaves and dropping them back to earth as it passed through. The beauty of nature caught Maura's attention as she walked the concrete path from the parking lot towards the reception building. She stood with her hands tucked into the pockets of her leather jacket appreciating the simple cause and effect. The air was fresh and she inhaled deeply before returning her focus ahead of her.

During a conversation she shared with Special Agent Geneva Blake while Jane had been missing a year ago, she had learned the FBI agent's mother suffered from Alzheimer's disease and was in a care facility. The subsequent heroic actions of Blake, when she dove on a grenade to save her bureau partner Victor Mancini and Jane, left Maura with an intense sense of guilt and sadness. As a result of this, with the help of Agent Mancini, she had reached out to Blake's brother Isaiah about providing assistance for his mother; she felt it was the least she could do.

Somewhere along the way she had decided to visit with Mrs Phyllis Blake and it hadn't taken much for the former professor of history at Michigan State to capture Maura's imagination. Lucidity was rare and while Phyllis rarely remembered this new person in her life, she was quite personable and more than happy to talk about times past.

Of course it was the more lucid moments when Phyllis would ask about Geneva that hit Maura the hardest. It had been discussed at length with Isaiah and Phyllis' doctor that the best course of action in her situation was not to go into details about her daughter's death. This was difficult for Maura and only added to the sadness she felt, but she accepted it was what was best. As far as lucid Phyllis knew, Maura was a friend of her daughters that had been happy to stop by and chat.

Maura had made a point to visit once or twice a month and was internally deriding herself for having failed to visit in six weeks as she entered through the electronic doors and turned down the hall towards reception. The inner walls were painted with soft tones and her eyes flitted from one painting depicting some of Massachusetts stunning views to another of a different view. Finally she came to a stop at the desk and was in the process of advising the clerk who she was there to see when she heard a deep voice behind her.

"Maura," Isaiah Blake said a little hesitantly, arriving at reception from within the complex.

Maura turned to look at Isaiah, who towered over her at six foot four. He wore his dress whites, and held his hat in front of his body. His Navy uniform contrasted brilliantly against his dark skin. The look on his face was weary and he tried to smile, flashing immaculate white teeth, which briefly took Maura back to the conversation she had shared with Jane about Detective West before the reality of the situation struck her. "Commander, I thought you were deployed on the USS Stennis in the South China Sea."

"I am," he confirmed, "but it was necessary for me to return for several days." His eyes told the story that Maura had already started putting together. "I regret to inform you that my mother passed in her sleep two days ago."

The news hit Maura hard, she instantly felt guilty for having failed to visit the woman in recent times. Still she held it together and nodded at the news, reaching out she placed a comforting hand on his forearm. "I'm terribly sorry Isaiah."

"She's with Geneva now, in a much better place." He had shed his tears privately for having lost his last close family member on the journey back to the States. Still the kindness that Maura had afforded his mother affected him deeply. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box that contained a sterling silver necklace featuring a dove. He opened the box to show Maura, "She would have wanted you to have this."

Maura shook her head softly. "I couldn't possibly."

"You brought my mother so much peace in her last days. You know what this disease does to a person, and yet a lot of her agitation was soothed in your presence. I may not have been around as often as I would have liked to see it myself, but the staff would update me regularly." He gently closed the box and pressed it into the surprised doctor's hands. "Please."

The arrival of another visitor pulled Maura back to her senses; she motioned Isaiah to follow her outside. The pair walked over to a bench and sat down and looked at the fallen leaves that a groundskeeper was doing his best to clean up. "I have been so busy and wrapped up in my own life these past couple of months Isaiah. I'm afraid this is my first visit in six weeks."

He studied her closely, especially her eyes, to find the guilt he had expected to see. He had seen it before, when they had first met after his sister's death. This woman felt so much for the people around her and gave so much that he hated for her to feel this way. "Maura, don't. You have the biggest heart I know. Geneva was doing her job when she," he swallowed thickly, it still cut him deeply to think of his sister diving on a grenade. "When she saved Jane. You didn't owe me or my mother anything and instead you gave us friendship and support. Please don't feel guilty about this."

Feeling impending tears and in an attempt to stave them off Maura opened the necklace box again and pulled the necklace out to study it. It was beautiful, and the dove held an olive branch in its beak. She sighed sadly.

"Here, let me." Isaiah said softly, taking the necklace from Maura he unclipped it and laid it gently around her neck before closing the clasp. "Beautiful," he uttered, staring a little too much before blinking and looking away.

Maura smiled shyly and thanked him. "Yes it is. Your mother was a brilliant woman Isaiah and she raised two wonderful children."

He nodded his acknowledgement of the words before changing the subject. He needed to keep them on track or he feared he would make a fool of himself. He had been completely enamoured with Maura, but he knew better. The friendship they had struck up had been a beautiful one, and he had become a confidant. He knew that Jane was the love of Maura's life and as such there was no sense in giving into feelings that would take him nowhere.

"The funeral is in two days, home in Detroit. I was just here to pick up a few keepsakes. I've had the rest donated to charity. You were actually going to be my next stop, but you've negated the need for that."

"I would like to attend the funeral, if that would be alright with you."

He smiled sadly, "I wouldn't have expected any less from you Maura."

* * *

She had always thought that New York was stunning at night, but now she had to consider the unique appeal of the Boston night. The much smaller city had an historic appeal that found a way under the skin of many a wanderer. She had spent much time along the eastern seaboard, Boston was her latest stop and she had to admit that it was home. Sure she left a long time ago when her dad took her away from her mom when she was just a little girl and hadn't been back, but it was still home.

Home was what she needed after the disaster that had been her last job and her last relationship. She shuddered at the memories before dropping her cigarette butt onto the cool ground and stomping it out. She looked up at the picturesque St Alban's Church and over towards the small group of people that trickled inside. Glancing at her watch she realised it was now or never, she either joined the group or went elsewhere.

Hands tucked into her blue jeans she exhaled and watched her breath in the night air, almost deciding to leave before the latest stranger caught her eye. The woman was tall with an impressive mane of curly waves and an obvious swagger; dressed in jeans, a navy t shirt and a leather jacket. Intrigued, she couldn't help but follow the woman inside to the meeting. Perhaps it was for the best.

She kept her distance from the intriguing stranger, opting to make a cup of instant coffee. She sat down at the back of the room, instinctively glancing around to take in the other attendees, but her eyes always returned to the wild haired beauty. She listened to the stories shared by those that were clearly ready to speak up, all the while hoping the woman would step up and speak.

She wanted to know more about this confident woman. What brought her here? Was her life as messed up as her own? She knew it was stupid to allow herself to be so curious, but she couldn't help it. The woman exuded confidence, and yet her dark brown eyes clearly held secrets. She knew all about secrets; she had a few of her own.

It turned out she had chosen a good night to attend her first meeting, as the mysterious woman was celebrating 90 days. She shifted forward in her chair, her own green eyes studying the woman intently, while she analysed every word. The woman was introduced by her sponsor and walked over to the podium.

With a nervous scratch at the back of her head, betraying her earlier confidence the woman made brief eye contact with different people in the group, even briefly catching the eyes of a woman she hadn't seen at the meetings before. "So, yeah ninety days sober. I know I'm supposed to be happy about it, but honestly I hate that I ended up here in the first place. I knew better than to turn to the bottle ya know?"

A few people that knew the woman nodded their understanding, clearly having heard her story a few times before. "It's just, my Pop had a problem and I swore I'd never be like him. He was an absolute jerk to Ma and us kids when he drank too much. I didn't wanna be like him, and yet here I am."

She shrugged sadly before dropping her head for a moment. When she looked up again there was a steely determination in her eyes, "I'm not like my Pop, for one I knew I had to get help." She paused for the knowing comments before continuing, "Alcoholism is an ugly disease and it was slowly undoing all the good things in my life. So yeah, okay, maybe I am proud to be here, cause I did what I needed to make sure I didn't do anything stupid on tha job, or mess up with my girlfriend."

She held up her ninety day chip, "Most important achievement of my life." With that she nodded, waited for the applause to die down and uttered her thanks before stepping down from the podium.

The meeting came to a close soon after and a few people hung back to mingle, offering their support to one another and sharing in some stale doughnuts and terrible instant coffee.

She knew she should just leave, but she couldn't stop herself from gravitating towards the dark haired woman who had stepped back and appeared to be people watching. This alone was interesting, and something she tucked to the back of her mind for future consideration. "Hey," she offered her hand to the woman, "I just wanted to say that it's not easy but you've done a great thing for yourself."

Shaking the hand offered firmly the she obviously checked out the woman that proffered the hand in the first place. Shoulder length red hair, an athletic figure, porcelain skin and seriously deep green eyes. Clearly pained green eyes. "Thanks. Haven't seen you here before."

She grinned, "That's cause tonight's my first night back in Bean town."

"Ahh so you're from around here?"

She shrugged, "Something like that."

"Well maybe I'll see you around…"

"Maybe you will. Have a nice night, Jane." She turned to leave but stopped at the door when she heard the woman call out.

"Hey that's not fair."

She quirked an eyebrow and smiled, "What isn't?"

"You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Oh, where are my manners?" She took out a business card for the motel where she was staying and scribbled on the back. She tucked it into the breast pocket of the slightly surprised woman. "See you around, Jane."

Jane watched the redhead leave before digging the card out of her pocket and reading the card.

 _Deanna, Room 13. Call me._

* * *

 **A/N: Don't stress if it doesn't make much sense to you yet, that's kind of the point. Also lets just be happy I managed another update that didn't take months. As usual all my appreciation for the reads and reviews. You know I love to hear your thoughts, it was actually the most recent review that spurred me on to keep writing more. Knowing that people out there are enjoying what I have to offer can sometimes inspire my muse.**


	5. Chapter 5

"How'd ya know?" Jane huffed as she slid into the booth at a diner several blocks from St Albans. She flicked the card with Deanna's information on it across the table in front of Special Agent Victor Mancini.

The FBI agent sipped at his coffee and shrugged, "She has a type."

He reached down beside himself and opened a briefcase, pulling out a file a couple of inches thick. He slid it across to Jane, "Her ex, Tatiana Ostrov, also happens to be tall dark and stunning."

Jane rolled her eyes at his description, all the while flipping through the file until her eyes fell on pictures of Deanna and Tatiana. Stunning was an understatement. She let out a low whistle, "Damn."

"Tha's no' all," he mumbled between bites of his apple pie. "The ex before that Julianna Torres, oh and before that Delta Stinson… I could go on."

Jane's brow furrowed as she flipped further through the detailed background on Deanna Morrison and realised that it didn't take a profiler to recognise this woman had a type. Her background was littered with dark, tall and beautiful women. "Guess this explains why you enlisted my assistance."

He nodded, "You fit the profile. Besides, you don't even have to stick to a cover story. Just being yourself will suck this woman right in and maybe then we can get somewhere with all of this."

Jane sighed, motioning for the waitress to bring her a coffee. She had agreed to help Victor without clearing it with Maura. She had already been burning the candle at both ends, and now, well now there just wasn't much wick left to burn. "I still don't get why you guys don't just bring her in if you're so sure she's the mastermind behind the robberies."

"No real evidence we can get to stick. She's good, Rizzoli. Might not seem like much in person, but she targets people she knows she can control to be in her crews. She's surprisingly charismatic." He paused, waiting for the waitress to fill a mug for Jane, continuing once she had disappeared back behind the counter. "We're gonna have to play this slow, she'll spook easily if you rush it. This has to be natural."

"What exactly do you want me to do here?" Jane had a sudden sinking feeling about the lengths this assignment was going to require from her.

"To keep it as real as possible until she tries to recruit you for a heist. Our files indicate she likes to have someone on the inside, and if you play it right Rizzoli, she'll look at your history and see someone ripe for the picking."

"Gee, thanks."

His eyes softened, along with his voice. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by that. You're made of tough stuff. Most others would have wilted under the pressure, but not you. That's what we're banking on her thinking she can manipulate."

"I'm gonna have to tell Maura." Jane said flatly, and boy did she not look forward to that conversation. "I mean, if you're expecting me to get friendly with her."

"I'll trust your judgement on that one, Rizzoli." He leaned back and yawned, "But we need you on this."

Jane turned her head and looked out the window, the cars driving by melted into a fog as her eyes became unseeing. Her thoughts drifted to the pending conversation with Maura, she couldn't see any way it went well. She sighed and blinked out of her foggy haze. Swallowing a big mouthful of the coffee that hadn't been that hot in the first place she looked back to Victor, "She's not gonna be happy about this. About any of it."

Victor quirked an eyebrow, "So you're actually considering the offer?"

"Yeah." She reached into her jeans and pulled out her phone. She had put it on silent when she was preparing to put on her little performance for the FBI's target. Her brow furrowed into concern when she saw she had three missed calls from Maura and several voice messages.

She quickly hit the call back button and put the phone to her ear. "Hey Maur. Everythin' alright?"

Victor watched as Jane's face fell and tossed her a querying look when she ended the call shortly after. "What's wrong?"

With a sad shake of the head Jane said, "Phyllis died."

The buoyancy Victor had felt from their successful first contact with his latest target was deflated by this news. He was close with Isaiah and his mother, thanks to the working relationship he had shared with Geneva. He knew his friend would be devastated, furthermore he knew enough to know that Maura wouldn't be taking it well either. "You better get home."

Jane was already on her feet dropping some money on the table for her coffee. "Yeah. So should I call Deanna or wait and see if she shows up next week?"

He shook his head, of course her mind was still in the game, even as she prepared to rush home and look after the needs of her girlfriend. "See if she rocks up next week. Play hard to get, she'll like that. Now get home to Maura."

"Yeah. G'night Vic."

* * *

The first thing that struck Jane when she returned to the Beacon Hill home she shared with Maura was that the light wasn't on for her. Maura knew she was coming home and was usually very thoughtful like that. Entering the house to find downstairs in darkness only added to her concern; however the soft glow emanating from underneath their bedroom door told her that the main concern was Maura's state of mind, not some sort of intruder.

Jane entered the bedroom to find her bedside lamp on and Maura curled up under the covers. "Maur?" She asked tentatively.

When the only response was the sound of her girlfriend sniffling and trying to hold back her sobs, Jane knew she was in for a long night. She quickly slipped out of her jacket and jeans, expertly removed her bra from underneath her BPD t shirt and dropped the clothes to the floor next to her boots that she had kicked off. She then slid under the covers next to Maura and wrapped her arms around the distraught woman. "I'm here."

The only indicator she had acknowledging her presence was the intertwining of fingers at the front of Maura's torso. She sighed and gently pressed her lips against soft honey blonde hair. "What can I do to make it better?" She asked softly, knowing all too well the impossibility of being able to do much for a grieving woman.

An ache permeated through Maura's entire being, and being wrapped up in Jane's protective arms only exacerbated the feeling of loss. She clung tightly to the hands meeting at her front, her chest heaving under the pressure of the sobs escaping her body. The death of Phyllis Blake had brought home an intense reminder of all that had been lost and all that she had nearly lost.

"I almost lost you," she choked out, rotating in the firm arms holding her close, so that she was face to face with Jane. Her hand came to rest against an olive toned cheek and her moist eyes came to rest on the swirling confusion in the dark brown staring back at her.

"Maur, I'm right here." She hated seeing such emotional turmoil grip her girlfriend. She hated that generally she was the cause of the worst feelings that gripped the petite blonde. In this instance however, confusion reigned supreme. She had been sure that Maura was upset over the passing of Phyllis Blake, now she didn't know what to think.

Thankfully for Jane, Maura was aware that the loss of Phyllis had triggered feelings she had long compartmentalised. She clarified, "Phyllis' death has brought forward some unresolved feelings."

"Oh." Jane leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Maura's forehead. Her instinct was to crack a joke and ask which time Maura meant, when referring to having nearly lost her, but for once in her life thought better of it. She didn't think being kicked out of the bedroom would be good for either of them, so she continued to press soft kisses against Maura's forehead, opting for physical comfort and allowing the doctor a chance to verbalise further, if that was what she wanted to do.

As much as she revelled in the feeling of soft lips pressed against her skin, she knew that she had Jane's full attention and if she were ever to discuss her current fears now was the time. "The worst of it is that I feel like I'm losing you in a different way."

Jane's head jerked back as the words cut deeply into her chest. She searched the teary eyes in front of her just to be sure of the truth. She needn't have bothered because she knew that Maura was never anything but honest. "You're not. I'm right here." What else could she say? The fact Maura felt this way frightened her greatly. She was screwing it up, just like she always feared she would.

"But are you?" The words were barely above a whisper, as if speaking them aloud might bring everything down around them. She had genuine reason to fear Jane would shut down and try to escape the conversation, but she needed to have it. She needed to find out what was happening to them.

"Maura?" She was so, so confused. She needed more to go on; sure she was an exceptional detective, but she really thought they were okay. Yeah they had their moments, but what couple didn't? Sure she had been more on edge lately, but that was nothing to do with Maura. She loved the woman to her very core. "You know I love you."

She smiled softly, "Of course. That is not in doubt here. I do not doubt your love for me Jane. Not ever." She leaned forward and pressed several soft kisses along the Italian's defined jaw before finishing up with a soft peck to the lips.

"Then help me out here Maura, 'cause I sure as hell dunno how you're losing me?"

"The monsters in your head, Jane." Nobody analysed behaviour better than Maura Isles and the fact was Jane had become more moody, more distant and while she had seen a concerted effort on the detective's behalf to control her temper and appreciated it, it was yet another sign of trouble. She saw the impending breakdown that loomed on the horizon if nothing was done to prevent it.

Jane sighed and rolled over onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling and subconsciously started working at the scars on her left hand. What could she say to that? She was always going to have monsters. Heck she had more monsters in her head than The X-Files had in a whole season. "You're not gonna lose me to the monsters in my head."

Maura propped herself up on her elbow, so that she could look down at Jane. "I already have." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Now hang on a minute…" Jane huffed defensively, sitting up and turning her body so that she was once again facing Maura.

"Do you realise this is the first time you have been in the same bed as me in 13 days?" The doctor's question quickly deflated Jane's defences. "You're shutting me out by working so hard that there's just no time for us anymore."

"For Pete's sake Maura, I don't control the lunatics of Boston. Suspicious deaths have been on the up. I've just been doing my job." Jane rolled out of bed and bent down to pick up her jeans, pulling them on roughly. She knew deep down that Maura was right. Nobody knew her better than her girlfriend, and at times it was the best thing while at other times it just sucked a lot.

Maura sighed. "Please don't walk away from this conversation Jane."

"I'm not," the Italian retorted. "I just need some air." She grabbed her boots and jammed them on her feet before grabbing her jacket and moving to the door. She just had to escape for a little while. She hated that Maura thought she was losing her, but the demons in her head were not something she wanted to share with the doctor. She'd shared enough horror with the woman for many life times as it was. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

* * *

 **A/N: So I've been wanting to write longer chapters, but the chapters have sort of just been finding their natural breaking points sooner than I expect. Still at least it is another update. As usual my thanks to all that read and review.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Mario turn that off, it's time for bed. Don't forget to brush your teeth."

Mario pouted but did as he was told, turning off the television before bounding past his mother, who had issued the command. He had just started clambering up the stairs when he heard a knock on the door. "I'll get it Mama." He called out excitedly, bounding back down the hall and ripping the door open.

"Hey kid," Jane tousled his hair and looked past him at Maria, who had walked into the hall tea towel and dinner plate in hand. "Maria. Sorry to stop by unannounced…"

"No problem at all Jane." Maria's smile was gracious until she turned her eyes to her son. Looking sternly at him she barked, "Upstairs and finish getting ready for bed. I'll be up shortly."

"But Mama, Aunt Jane is here!" Mario pleaded desperately.

"Do as your mother says, Mario." Victor commanded as he joined everyone in the front hall.

In a last ditch effort Mario tossed sad eyes at Jane, but they didn't work as well as they normally did. "Sorry kid, you're on your own with this one."

Realising he was defeated, Mario huffed like only a six year old could before briefly hugging Jane and his parents and disappearing up the stairs.

Offering the tea towel as evidence of her prior activities Maria smiled politely and excused herself; leaving her husband alone with Jane.

Victor motioned towards his study and trailed behind Jane who led the way, appreciative of the relative privacy he was offering. She sat down in an old but comfortable recliner and waited for him to close the door and sit down at his desk.

"Have to admit I'm surprised to see you again tonight. What's going on Jane?"

It was the obvious question and one she had expected, and yet she didn't know where to begin. Her eyes fell on the signed, framed Derek Jeter jersey on the wall behind his desk and she let out an exasperated sigh. "Every time I think I like you, I see that jersey. Damn Yankees."

He chuckled softly not at all offended and familiar with the typical Rizzoli delay tactics. They both knew she wanted to talk, but it wasn't as simple as his asking a direct question and she providing a direct answer. No, it was a process of give and take; of easing into the heavy stuff. "Not surprised you're sore, Yankees swept the season series."

Jane rolled her eyes at his gloating. A year ago that sort of thing would have only served to irritate her, but having been able to get to know him she now considered him her closest friend, aside from Maura. She grimaced at the thought of Maura, which only served to remind her that there was a reason she had stopped by.

She jumped straight to the thought rattling around her brain, "Maura told me tonight that she feels like she's lost me to the monsters in my head."

"Did she clarify on that?" He probed.

Jane rubbed at the back of her neck in an attempt to ease the tension that had been building all week. "Apparently I haven't slept at home in two weeks," she offered in response. "I didn't realise it had been that long. We've just been so busy and…"

"And the first thing you do when she brings this to your attention is leave your home?" He queried seriously, understanding to some extent why Maura might be concerned. He understood what it was like to work in law enforcement and to be so wrapped up in the job that he didn't make it home, but he knew that if his wife had ever commented on his absences he would have ensured he rectified the situation.

"Jesus Vic, I just needed some air. It was a real kick to the gut you know? For Maura to feel that way…" She paused, her insides churning just thinking about it. "She's the only damned thing in my life that doesn't feel all twisted up at the moment." It wasn't an easy confession to make, not to her friend, and especially not to the FBI agent who had brought her in on a job and put in a good word for her regarding recruitment to the bureau.

He offered a sad smile in return. It was a difficult time of year for the both of them, so he certainly wasn't going to hold it against her. He suspected that the impending one year anniversary of the death of Detective Cooper had a lot to do with how upside down Jane's world was feeling. "So tell her that. Open up to her Jane. This is a conversation you should be having with her. She worries because she loves you."

The tension she felt in her neck and shoulders crept up her spine to the back of her skull. She closed her eyes and rubbed at the back of her head. "I'm supposed to be the strong one…"

"Bullshit," Vic interrupted. "You're built a certain way and that includes a certain level of toughness. Maura had to learn that from what I understand, and let me tell you that she is the rock in your relationship and she can handle anything you throw at her." He eyed Jane knowingly when she opened her eyes to look at him. "At least when you let her…"

"That's not…"

"Oh shut it Jane. You know I speak the truth."

Jane sighed. She hated being called out on anything. It was definitely one of her faults; it was a good thing she wasn't wrong too often. "She expects a certain level of stoicism from me."

"Because that's all you give her," he retorted immediately. "Trust her Jane, open up to her. Tell her what you're struggling with and let her help you and if she can't help, at least let her be there with you through it."

She let out a small huff of indignation, but they both knew it was all for show. He may have become a close friend and confidant, but a big part of that included acting like she didn't really want his advice. It was a little emotionally backwards, but neither of them were overly comfortable with the sharing of feelings and subsequent meaningful observations. They would dance around a little, get to the point, and then most of the time act like it never happened.

"By the way Rizzoli, I have tickets for the impending blood bath next week if you want to come along." He let her off the hook with a jab at the Bruins, confident his Islanders had them covered.

"Get real," Jane scoffed, "Bergeron will dance circles around that pathetic excuse of a hockey team." She grinned, "Count me in!"

"Excellent," he said, rising from his position behind his desk. "Now go home and talk to your woman, Rizzoli."

* * *

An hour and a half after she had left their bed Jane returned home to find Maura nursing a cup of tea at the kitchen island. It was clear the doctor had been crying recently and it felt like a punch to the gut because she knew that she was the primary cause of the pain etched onto her girlfriend's face.

With a heavy sigh she shrugged out of her jacket placing it down on the kitchen island. She slipped onto a stool opposite the stricken woman and proffered an apology, "I'm sorry Maura."

Further words, more delicate words, danced at the tip of her tongue, but it was much easier to acknowledge she needed to be more open, than to actually follow through with it. She really was a difficult woman to love, she almost wished for those days following her amnesia again. She was different then. She had been softer, more open, but then the memories returned and the pain of her life experiences had returned those walls.

Maura barely acknowledged her with a harrowing look, before returning her gaze to the dark liquid in her cup. Her hands wrapped tightly around the porcelain.

Jane reached out and covered her girlfriend's hands with her own. "I love you..."

"I know," Maura replied softly, for that had never been in question.

"I know I'm not myself anymore," it was difficult for the detective, but she knew Victor was right. She had to try, for Maura's sake. Yes she had monsters and yes they were overwhelming her to the point of exhaustion, but she wouldn't let them win. She had too much to live for, too much to lose.

"And maybe I am trying too hard at work, but if I slow down right now… I just don't know if I can deal with that Maura."

Maura looked up and searched the dark brown pools staring so earnestly at her. "Jane…" she wanted to find words to comfort the detective, but she stopped when she realised there was more.

"It hurts too much to slow down… I can't shake the nightmares… I didn't want you to know they had returned. I'm supposed to be the strong one…" the vulnerability choked her up. She was pretty sure this was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

"Jane," Maura spoke more forcefully this time, determined to remind her girlfriend that they were in the situation together. "You are the strongest person I know, if not the most stubborn. There is no weakness in acknowledging you are struggling."

She wanted to believe Maura and logically she knew it made sense, the fact she was still a relatively functioning human being despite her run ins with two of Boston's worst serial killers was proof enough. It just didn't feel that way. Every time her sleep was interrupted by visions of Riley bleeding out in front of her, she felt anything but strong. She felt guilty. She felt broken. She felt weak.

"Riley's dead because of me." She admitted softly, her hands falling away from the warmth of Maura's.

Maura sighed sadly. She wasn't surprised that Jane felt that way, would carry that guilt with her, but there was nobody to blame for the death of Detective Riley Cooper other than the twisted psychopath that had orchestrated her murder. "There's only one person responsible," Maura said forcefully, reaching out to the retreating hands with her own, "and it sure isn't you."

Jane shrugged away from the gentle touch and pushed herself up and away from the stool she had been sitting on. She couldn't bring herself to look into the loving eyes of the woman who had been sitting opposite her. Every fibre of her body wanted to retreat from the conversation, but she forced herself to stay, albeit by pacing back and forth in front the kitchen island.

Maura stood from her position, walked around the island and stepped in front of Jane, bringing her pacing to an abrupt halt. Without her heels she was required to look up in an attempt to get the distraught woman to meet her gaze. "You will get through this. You are not alone in this. I love you Jane."

There was so much more unsaid, but she couldn't even begin to continue. The worst part being she knew that she had to talk to Maura about her current side project helping the FBI and the job offer. She tried to look her girlfriend in the eyes, but it was too difficult. She turned away and let out a shuddering breath, the wave of emotion she had been riding crashed to shore in the form of red hot tears that bit at her cheeks. She wiped at them roughly. Crying was not her thing.

Maura didn't take offence to Jane turning away; she had seen the moisture well in her love's eyes and was not at all surprised at the retreat. Still, she wasn't going to let Jane off the hook completely. She wrapped herself around the woman from behind, hugging her tightly. She placed several kisses against Jane's back before resting her head against the broad shoulders. "Come to bed."

* * *

 **A/N: Well hello, hasn't it been a very long time? I'm sorry about that. Worse is I know it will probably still be a while before anymore updates, but this chapter was nearly done, so I finished it and decided to share it just so you all know I am still about, it's just not been a good year (the lack of writing would be a good indicator of that). I will finish my stories eventually, I am sorry that there is such delay. I just wanted you to know I haven't forgotten you.**


	7. Chapter 7

Spending the night in Maura's arms had helped Jane to the best night's sleep she had experienced in a month, but she still woke incredibly early. The red digits on the bedside clocked ticked over to 5:03 am as she rolled out of bed and snuck quietly out of the room.

She didn't want to cost Maura an hour of sleep but she especially didn't want to face her girlfriend the morning after being so vulnerable. She wasn't cut out for being the _little spoon_ , regardless of how soothing it had been. It was just too much vulnerability, let alone the vulnerability she had shown admitting how much she was struggling. It may have been the right thing to do for their relationship, but it wasn't something that sat comfortably within her at all.

She took a quick shower in the guest bedroom's ensuite to ensure she didn't wake Maura, before dressing and slipping quietly out of the house. She stopped at Boston Joe's to grab a coffee and breakfast pastry before heading in to work.

Homicide was empty when she waltzed in a little after six thirty a.m., which gave her plenty of time to catch up on her team's active investigations. There were five in total, at varying stages of investigation. The Larry Peterson case being the freshest and the one she was most interested in as it was the one she was considering handing over to her brother to run, because she knew that she was spreading herself too thin. Plus she wasn't sure she wanted to meet the sad excuse of a human being that had killed someone because of a video game. Besides, if she did actually delegate the case it would be a step in the right direction with Maura given it had been her girlfriend's idea in the first place.

According to her brother's notes the interview with Jesse Sinclair hadn't garnered anything useful beyond what she had witnessed herself. They were focusing their investigation on the victim's realm's top PVP players to see who would most benefit from Larry's demise. They had managed to identify character names from multiple tracking sites on the internet; they just needed to identify the account holders to narrow down the suspect pool. She furrowed her brow as she contemplated what she read. They had a lead but no active suspects. If Frankie was going to take over the case she was going to light a fire under his ass to ensure his success.

A quick glance at her watch and she figured that she had at least an hour before Frankie would be at his desk. Content in her decision, she decided to head to the basement where old case files were archived.

With the one year anniversary of Cooper's murder five days away she just wanted to take one last look at the files; whether it was to torture herself over her mistakes during that case or for closure, she wouldn't have been able to give an honest definitive answer. The truth was, for Jane, she might not ever be able to let go of the _Catch 22 Killer_ because of the devastation he had left in his wake. Ryan Leiland had been an entirely different beast than Charles Hoyt, and while Hoyt had left her with physical and mental scars, they weren't the ones keeping her up at night.

"Back again so soon?" Officer Meadows asked, accustomed to seeing Jane in the early morning's at least once a week. There was always some old case she wanted to peruse.

Jane offered a tired half smile, "Can't keep me away," she signed the ledger that tracked the comings and goings and waited for him to buzz her in. "Thanks George."

"Just let me know when you're done, Sergeant."

"Will do," she replied, disappearing around the corner in the direction of the file she was most interested in.

When she reached her destination she pulled the box from the shelf and set it down on the floor. She sat down next to the box, removing the lid she dug through until she found the particular report she had been most concerned with. She skipped through the documents until she came upon the autopsy file. Autopsy had been handled by Doctor Celia Lawrence, the forensic pathologist the FBI had brought in to handle the autopsies and there was very little in the report that Jane hadn't already witnessed first hand.

Riley had bled to death due to multiple stab wounds to her side and abdomen, one of the wounds had nicked the hepatic artery in her liver, there wasn't anything that could have been done. It was something Jane knew all too well, memories of that night returning to assault her senses. She could almost taste the blood as she looked down at her own hands, hands that had tried to stem the inevitable tide.

Jane had to force her way forward past the point of the report that had stopped her in her tracks every time previously. The flashbacks of Riley clutching at her wounds had always been too overwhelming, and they threatened to overwhelm again this time, but she needed to push through.

Unwanted tears streamed down her face as she read further. She wiped her face with her sleeve and doubled her focus. It was then that she noticed a fact she hadn't seen before, Riley had scratched her attacker. Skin cells were found underneath her fingernails; however the DNA hadn't matched any known person in the state and federal databases.

She closed her eyes and sucked in several deep breaths, pushing back at the emotion tying her up in knots. Ryan may have ordered the murder of her partner, and he had already met his maker, but the person that had physically driven their blade into Riley had never been caught. This fact didn't sit well with Jane, and she knew that at this point in time the only way that person would be caught was if they slipped up again. At least they now had that person's DNA in their database.

She packed up the files and put the box back where it belonged. She wiped at her face again, making sure the tears wouldn't betray her. She sucked in a few more breaths and exited the archive room. She signed out and wished Officer Meadows a great day.

* * *

Maura awoke just before her alarm to find the spot beside her empty and cool to the touch. She had fallen asleep her arms wrapped lovingly around her detective, and it had been a welcome change; however the waking up to an empty bed once again only served to chisel away at the confidence she had regained the night before.

It was with a heavy heart that she slipped out of bed and wandered into the ensuite to begin her morning ritual. She spent longer in the shower than she normally would, allowing the hot water to wash away tears that ran freely down her face. She felt more alone standing there under the hot water than she had the day she left for boarding school as a child.

Maura knew that she hadn't always understood social cues, but she felt fairly confident in the obvious warning signs with regards to the stability of her relationship with Jane. She had no doubt Jane loved her, but she was beginning to understand what the detective had meant when she had said she sucked at relationships. Jane just didn't know how to share her burdens and despite the attempts of the previous evening Maura couldn't help but wonder if it was too little too late.

After ten minutes, her skin beyond wrinkled, she pulled herself together to prepare for the rest of her day. She had a flight to catch in the evening to make it to Detroit in time for the funeral of Phyllis Blake the following morning. She had already arranged for the next two days off, leaving Kent in charge of the morgue, but she hadn't had a chance to talk to Jane about what was happening.

After dressing and heading downstairs to brew her morning coffee Maura tried calling Jane, but there was no answer. "Please call me when you get this Jane."

Satisfied that she would hear from her girlfriend soon enough she retrieved the newspaper delivery from the front porch and returned to the kitchen island to drink her coffee and catch up on the current happenings in the world.

* * *

When Jane returned to the homicide bullpen she found Frankie at his desk booting up his computer. She walked over and greeted him warmly.

He looked up from his computer a little taken aback by the warmth in her voice. He figured after his calling Maura to tattle the day before that she would still be in a foul mood. "Hey, what's up?"

"I wanted to apologise, I know I over stepped yesterday and that I have in general been wound a little tight."

He shrugged, "I shouldn't have called Maura like I did…"

"Well I would have preferred you didn't resort to that, but it's done now. I went through your notes on the part of the interview I missed and I realise that this case isn't in my wheelhouse. I want you to run point from here on out, I'm going to focus my attention elsewhere."

Frankie was surprised to say the least, but he stood and after a quick glance to ensure they were alone he gave his sister a quick hug. "Thanks Jane."

She patted him on the shoulder, "Don't mention it. You earned it. Just make sure that new partner of yours stays away from Maura."

Frankie chuckled, "I'm pretty sure he's gonna be nursin' his wounds followin' his first encounter for a long while."

Jane grinned, her first real satisfied smile in some time. "Good." She turned to return to her desk when she stopped and looked back at her brother, "Don't let me down on this one Frankie!"

"I won't!" He had already devised an unconventional plan with Detective West and Nina to find the more specific information they needed and now he didn't even have to run it by Jane. He relished the opportunity to step out of his big sister's shadow.

Jane felt a small weight lift from her shoulders as she returned to her desk. She sat down determined to clear some of the paperwork that had built up during the previous few weeks. It was then she realised she had left her phone at her desk when she had gone to the archives. She checked the phone and noticed she had a new voice mail from Maura. After listening to the message she sighed, Maura hadn't sounded very happy.

She returned her girlfriend's call, as requested. "Hey," she offered guardedly when Maura answered. "I'm sorry I was gone so early, just wanted to catch up on some paperwork."

"So you're at work?" Maura enquired.

"Yeah, actually just passed the Peterson case over to Frankie." She hoped to pre-empt whatever negative feelings that Maura may have with what she felt a constructive solution to one of their issues.

"Oh he must be pleased," Maura commented, genuinely happy to hear about the development, both for Frankie and Jane's sakes.

"Yeah," Jane said, glancing over at her brother, who appeared hard at work. "Pretty sure he's doing a jig in his seat right now," she deadpanned.

"I highly doubt that Jane," Maura said incredulously, suspecting that her girlfriend was embellishing at best.

"You'd be right," Jane admitted, glad that Maura seemed in better spirits. "So you wanted to talk to me?"

"Oh, yes. With everything that happened last night I forgot to mention that I am going to Detroit for Phyllis' funeral."

"When?"

"Tonight, the funeral is in the morning."

"Oh," Jane's buoyant mood deflated, she had honestly hoped to go home to Maura at the end of the day. Furthermore she would have liked to attend the funeral with her girlfriend to provide support. There just wasn't enough notice to make that happen. "I wish I could…"

"I know that it is short notice Jane, I don't expect you to be able to join me. I just didn't want you coming home to an empty house and worrying for no reason."

"What time is your flight? I'll drive you to the airport." Jane figured it was the least she could do, and leaving work early for the first time in months wouldn't be a problem.

Maura felt a warmth bloom in her chest, it was a simple offer but it was a level of thought that Jane had been seriously lacking of late. Perhaps things were improving after all. Her smile was obvious when she responded, "Six thirty."

"Pick you up from home at four?"

"Yes, thank you Jane."

"Alright, I'll see you then. Love you Maur."

"I love you too."

* * *

 **A/N: So I decided to try and get this story moving along, I still make no promises about regularity of updates, but I am going to try to keep writing this one. This is a transitional chapter, basically everything up until now has been about setting a tone and re-acquainting readers with this particular universe. Anyways, thank you for reading and thank you for your reviews.**


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